


Blue

by Magical_Axolotl



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, AlternateUniverse, M/M, Seasonal Affective Disorder, TriggerWarning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21917833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magical_Axolotl/pseuds/Magical_Axolotl
Summary: It was Nativity’s eve and Collins was cooking since morning, of course Farrier helped him for a while but in that moment he was just laying on the sofa watching TV.Of course he wished for Thomas to show up, but he had his doubts even after he said to himself he wouldn’t feel bitter if the boy didn’t.They were already thanking the goddess for their meal when a loud noise came from the living room.—You won’t believe who’s here.
Relationships: Collins/Farrier, FamilyRelationships
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7
Collections: 'Holidays'





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU based on a roleplay I did with a friend, we joke around saying that the war happened and the canon is kind of interwoven with the AU.
> 
> This story was written by -discord- @zack  
> We don’t own neither Dunkirk nor the characters.

It was past noon when Thomas woke up feeling like he didn’t sleep at all, he tried to remember what his dream was about. A few seconds later he gave up, there was no use. With a sigh he pushed the duvet aside and got out of bed. The floor was cold, he could feel it even through the thick layer of wool of his socks. It’d never be as cold as the winter back home, in the woods, where he lived until six months ago. How he missed those nights in front of the chimney, the smell of burning wood, it’s cracking sound. There was something in Londium’s winter that made it different, Tommy couldn’t enjoy it here as much as he did back home, even if he wore the same old socks and had the same old mug full of hot tea between his cold hands.

Half an hour later, the boy was sitting back on his bed, facing the window and drawing silly shapes on the fogged glass. Yes, it was cold outside but he was out of food after a week without leaving the flat he rented. He wasn’t willing to go out, not because it was freezing outside but because he simply felt like not doing a single thing, again.

Since his uncle, great uncle, died a few winters ago that blue feeling took hold of him every year during that season. But he was hungry and he knew he needed to go out before that parasite ate him up, or worse, before he ate himself.

Thomas always wore the same old knee high boots, those felt like home and they wouldn’t let the cold in, yet. He loved the sound the soles made against the pavement, that helped him stay grounded as he traveled through the people and the busy streets. Nothing seemed to stop the people of Londium from going to work or do some last minute shopping. The next day was Nativity’s eve and he couldn’t care less. Nothing was the same without his uncle’s stories about the war nor his grandma’s cooking. He was so used to spending the holidays with them, in the south, that he felt like someone else during the first winter he stayed home, in the midlands. What a blue Nativity he had that year, and every passing year he felt worse and worse. 

His trusty boots guided him where he needed to be. The first floor of the old-looking four stories building was his favorite place to eat. The owners were a thirty something man named Farrier and Collins, his husband, that lived above the café. Tommy knew little about them but what he did know was that both had a liking for the sky, he was sure that at least Farrier used to be part of the air force before he hung his wings and tried his hand at the food industry. What Thomas liked the most was the collection of antiques from the war the man had exhibited on the walls and odd places of the local. They were mainly from the air force, both magical and conventional, and gave the café its unique character and, at the same time, it didn’t matter that his uncle never got to fly a plane, they made him feel at home.

Tommy sat at the same table as always, a table for two near the front window. As usual, a few seconds later, Farrier sat with him. The man always did, even if the place was crowded. Today the boy was the only customer.

\--Collins was worried, he thought you’d never come back. I told him to stop being silly --the man smiled warmly.

As the boy remained silent and Farrier went on telling him about some woman who complained because her pancakes were not pink enough and how Collins was about to turn her skin “pink enough”. The story made him smile, in his eyes Collins was a calm man who always seemed happy while cooking.

\--Thomas --a bell rang from the kitchen and Farrier stood up--. I think your breakfast is ready. The boy said nothing but both of them glanced at the clock on the wall, the little hand pointed at the big red three, as a little sun smiled above the six. 

While Farrier went to get Tommy’s food, the boy thought of his mother. He only spent Nativity with her once, she smiled just like the sun above the six. A broad smile, an empty smile. That night, as both of them sat in front of each other at the table in his small house, he knew she wanted to be elsewhere, with her friends from her coven ( _drinking in the woods, dancing among the trees, free of everything_ ), but she had Tommy and she felt bad because her poor boy lost his uncle, because her poor boy would spend Nativity alone otherwise. 

Sunny side up eggs, beans and bacon. Farrier left the dish in front of him.

\--If you want anything else, just call me --Farrier stayed in the same place in silence longer than needed, after opening and closing his mouth several times without saying a word he left for the kitchen.

The breakfast was delicious as always, and Thomas enjoyed the little comfort he found in the food’s warmth and the soft ambient music. Just as he was about to finish, the man came back. Again he stood in silence besides the empty chair. Again an awkward silence set in. Again he opened and closed his mouth two or three times. As Tommy pushed the empty dish in his direction the man finally spoke, again saying his name. 

_Just like a father would_. 

\--Thomas, Collins and I thought, well, we got that you live alone and… We thought you could come and spend Nativity with us. If you want.

Thomas looked up, fixed his stare on the man’s slight frown, bit his lower lip and looked away twisting his fingers under the table. Just as he was about to answer he closed his mouth again.

\--You’re free to say no --Farrier said as he sat. --Truth be told, Collins… both of us are worried about you. 

The first time the boy came to his café Farrier barely noticed him. It was Collins who rushed out of the kitchen thinking the boy ran away from his home. He saw them talk for a while but it wasn’t until that night that he got to know what his husband and the boy talked about. 

\--He lives alone --Collins said out of the blue--, likes is eggs sunny side up and chamomile tea. He assured me he can pay us.  
Collins said no more, Farrier said no more. Neither of them slept well that night. The next morning, the boy was sitting at the same table by nine, for an instant the café’s owner thought a ghost had settled there, but he saw the boy who helped on the flower shop crossing the street talking with him, so he pushed the idea aside.

Sunny side eggs, bacon. Same table, nine o’clock, sunny side up, bread.

Six months later the boy’s- Thomas’s schedule wasn’t as strict as before but Collins keep making him breakfast even if it was three in the afternoon. Farrier kept him company everytime just so the boy had someone to talk to if he needed. Thomas rarely did, so Farrier filled the silence with silly stories.

_There was a man, a fisherman…_

Thomas struggled in his chair. Farrier felt sorry for making him uncomfortable and reached out to place his hand on the boy’s shoulder. He hoped it was ok. 

\--Don’t worry, we just wanted to let you know that… that you’re welcome here.  
\--Thanks.

It was Nativity’s eve and Collins was cooking since morning, of course Farrier helped him for a while but in that moment he was just laying on the sofa watching TV. Or so he did until Collins let himself fall on the cushions, his apron full of stains and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

\--Do you think he’ll show up?  
\--I don’t know, darling --Said Farrier while kindly resting his arm over his shoulders. Of course he wished for Thomas to show up, but he had his doubts even after he said to himself he wouldn’t feel bitter if the boy didn’t.

Dinner was ready, the table was set already. Both of them waited on the sofa, watching some cliché Nativity’s eve romcom. Collins played with the knot of his tie, Farrier was about to take his own off.

\--He’s not coming, please, sweetheart. I’m starving --he rested his head on Collins’ shoulder.  
\--Five more minutes.

Farrier had lost count of how many times the blond said those words that night. He had watched the same movie last year, on Nativiy’s eve.

It was almost midnight and both of them gave up their hopes. They were already thanking the goddess for their meal when a loud noise came from the living room. Farrier ran only to find the black-haired boy laying on the floor.

\--I’m sorry for being late. I couldn’t find my frog.  
Farrier laughed when he heard a loud croak coming from the plastic box Thomas held against his chest.

\--Is everything alright? --Shouted Collins from the kitchen.  
\--Yes, darling. You won’t believe who’s here.


End file.
